


A Kiss From Death

by junipernapalm



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipernapalm/pseuds/junipernapalm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jean meets Death, he doesn't expect to know him. Yet, something about Death makes him long for something missing- lost love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss From Death

Jean met Death in hopes that he would be reunited with his dear friend Marco, but he never quite imagined that Death would deny his request. A fresh and willing soul seemed like quite the prize for Death, Jean assumed. However, Jean lay down on the floor, staring at the ceiling, still obviously alive. He would touch his heart if he could, but none of his muscles seemed to respond to any desire to move. Naturally, he cried and thought maybe this was punishment for teasing Death- to die such a tortuous death. Jean could laugh about it, maybe. Instead, as tears slowly dried on his face, he just wished someone would notice him here.

The moment his eyes opened to the blinding fluorescent lights, Jean knew he was in the hospital. He could hear the crying and screaming, only slightly dampened by the heavy curtains that separated his room from theirs. He wondered if his doctors or nurses noticed that he was awake. Surely they’d be rushing to his room now that he was up.

“You’re not awake.”

Right beside Jean, Death sat on a stool, in his black cloak, chilling the room with his presence. He removed his hood and gave Jean a pitiful stare. Jean just gasped, surprised that Death looked like a handsome, young man with dark wild hair and the coldest eyes. Beneath that was a kind familiarity that drew Jean to him. Death ignored Jean’s stare and reached out for Jean’s hand. Immediately, the warmth in Jean’s body drained and was replaced by a freezing touch that bit into his bones. Jean wrestled under the grip, thrashing in the bed with the unrealistic hope of a hospital worker to notice him. Death was undeterred, standing above Jean with his calm and unwavering grip. He whispered to Jean even though he knew Jean was beginning to lose his hearing. Soon after his hearing left, his vision began to blur into nothingness. Jean was fading away.

Jean blinked and saw the pink haze of the sunset reflecting on the ocean. He looked at his wrist, Death’s hand no longer there. He sighed in relief even though his intuition told him that Death was near him. Way to ruin a day at the beach, he thought. He liked looking at the water and smelling the ocean breeze. When he was a kid, his family took him here all the time. He never did quite like it back then, but maybe death changed his mind. Right now, he could stay here forever listening to the birds and waves, he thought.

“Could you though? Be here forever?” Death asked.

“Huh?”

Death appeared at Jean’s side. He stood on the beach with his black cloak billowing in the wind, looking ever so terrifying but majestic. He truly was Death, Jean thought.

“Who else would I be?” Death said.

“Get out of my head…” Jean said.

“I would, but your whole brain is loud. It’s why we’re here.”

“I took us here?”

“Yeah. Your consciousness decided to take you here for a moment.”

“Does this happen with everyone?”

Death shrugged and gazed back at the ocean.

“Are you trying to convince me not to die?” Jean asked.

“I can’t convince you not to die when you’re already dead. You got what you wanted.”

“I wanted to see my friend Marco.”

“I wish you’d stop talking about him. Thinking about him. Everything about him.”

Jean shook his head; but when he looked back up, they were in a café. He remembered this café from way back. He cried here when he was a little kid. It had to do with not having cake. Not even a day at the beach made up for the lack of cake.

“I’m having cake,” Jean said.

“I never said you couldn’t, “ Death said. He popped up from behind his menu. Jean shuddered at Death. Not that Death cared, no one liked him.

“Don’t we look weird to these people? You scare people shitless,” Jean said.

“People see what they want. We just look like people eating lunch together. They wouldn’t know what Death looked like.”

A waitress approached the two. She smiled with her crooked teeth and shifted her weight onto one leg as she pulled up her notepad.

“What can I do you for big guy?” she asked.

Death folded his menu and threw Jean a look before turning his gaze to the waitress.

“Coffee. Black. No sugar- though I wouldn’t oppose a few packets if you happened to have some. Also, a slice of cherry pie,” Death said as her handed over his menu.

“And you honey?”

“A piece of the chocolate cake. Water is fine. Wait- no. Do you guys have shakes? If so, get me a vanilla one.”

“On the double sweetie,” the waitress said before she glided away towards the kitchen.

Death broke into a smile. His smile was mesmerizing to Jean. It made his face glow. In this light, Death felt so familiar. Jean couldn’t quite place where he met him before, but in the back of his mind, he was convinced that he knew Death. It seemed ridiculous. How did one even know Death?

“What’s on my face?” Death asked.

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Wait- you didn’t hear my thought?” Jean said.

“No. I can’t hear all your thoughts. Some of them are just loud enough that I can pick them out. I definitely can’t hear anything from the subconscious.”

It was Jean’s turn to smile. He made a stupid grin that looked like a satisfied cat. That grin grew wider when their food arrived. Jean dove in for his cake first, feeling indescribably happy as he bit into a piece. Death watched on, sipping on his coffee and debating if it was worth it to put a sugar pack in. If he couldn’t make a decision on that, it didn’t seem to matter with the sweet slice of pie in front of him.

“ You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jean said.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here,” Death said.

“Some other poor sap took you here?”

“Yeah, back when I was human.”

“Wait, you were human?”

“Maybe… That’s besides the point.”

“So why are we here? Besides the fact that I’m taking us here, why?”

“A lot of people go through their life before being asked to make their choice.”

“And that is?”

“Whether or not you want your soul to be cycled.”

“Is there another choice in that?”

Death didn’t answer that question. He couldn’t answer that. He ignored Jean and sipped his coffee.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Jean said.

“It’s not for me to say, until it’s time- until you’re ready,” Death said.

“So, like I’ll just know?”

“Yeah” Death nodded and placed his fork onto his plate. He leaned his head on his hand and sighed. Jean bit his lip and threw his fork down. He could only wonder where he’d be off to next, he and his companion Death. Jean closed his eyes and hoped his mind would just settle so he could get this done and over with.

The air changed, suddenly out of ice-cold air conditioning and into the sticky heat of summer. Jean hesitated to open his eyes, but Death placed his hand on Jean’s shoulder, shocking him awake. Surprisingly, he didn’t recognize the place he was at. He looked around at his surroundings and at himself. He wore some strange gear, something he called “weird ass BDSM bondage shit”.

“It’s called a harness. It’s for 3DMG or three dimensional maneuvering gear,” Death said.

“It looks weird,” Jean said.

“You’re good with it, the 3DMG.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because, this is a past life of ours, and that’s what I remember about you back then.”

Jean looked up at Death. He tilted his head, trying to remember if he knew Death before. He certainly looked familiar, but Jean couldn’t remember any of this- probably the past lives thing.

“Hey horse face!”

The pair froze in their tracks. Jean couldn’t believe how much those words made him pissed off. But he looked in Death’s eyes and noticed something completely off in Death. He saw a fear that he knew no one else had seen in Death before. Death gripped Jean’s arm. Jean could feel the tension through his touch. They waited until they could hear footsteps getting closer to them. Death pressed himself against Jean and put his head on Jean’s shoulder. Jean put his hands around Death, who was shaking in Jean’s hold. Death in his embrace, somehow that felt natural- like how it always was. He brushed Death’s hair out of the way and stared into his eyes. Was he missing something about Death? He placed his fingertips right over Death’s lips. He felt crazy. How could he be doing this to Death? How could Death let him get this close? Was Death just as susceptible to the magnetism between them? The thoughts kept racing in Jean. He could hear his heart beat faster and faster as the distance between he and Death grew smaller.

“Hey!”

Jean turned his head and saw his old childhood nemesis, Eren Jaeger. The air between he and Death dissipated and was replaced by slight irritation at the interruption. It must have still been strong though as Eren blushed and hid his face from Jean and Death.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you and Bertolt were… you know… I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Eren said.

“It’s fine,” Jean said.

“Bertolt, don’t you think Reiner is going to be pissed you’re out here with Jean?”

The flush in Death’s face drained. He withdrew from Jean and scratched the nape of his neck. He wouldn’t look Jean or Eren in the eye. He slouched to make himself look smaller.

“Yeah… I guess so,” Death said.

“It’s none of his fucking business,” Jean said. He took Death into his arms again and shielded Death from Eren.

“Leave him alone,” Jean said.

“Shesh… Anyway, I forgot to tell you, Marco was looking for you.”

“Marco? Really?”

“Yeah, he’s back in the barracks.”

Jean started to slip from Death’s grip, about to spring into a sprint, but then he could feel Death pull him back. He was yanked into a different world. This time, they were in a dark apartment bedroom, only lit by moonlight. Their strange clothes were gone, leaving them naked. Jean wanted to slap Death for taking him here and leaving him like this, but he could only blame his head for wanting him to leave for this place. Death just laughed to himself, turning away from Jean.

“What’s so fucking hilarious?” Jean said.

“This memory,” Death said.

“What’s with you and these memories? Why are you so hung up on them?”

“Why are you so hung up on Marco? You don’t have to explain yourself when it comes to him. I don’t want to tell you about my memories because I wish you just could remember- even though I know you can’t.”

“Wait… so you know?”

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

Death plopped down onto the bed with Jean reluctantly joining him. They faced each other, hoping the other would say something first. Jean caved in first. Silence was too much for him to bear.

“Bertolt… That’s your name. Isn’t it?” Jean asked.

“Yeah, before I was Death,” he said.

“Why is it when I look at you I think I see someone I might have known? Like I think I know you, but none of my memories say I know you. You said something about your memories and how you wish I could remember. How else could I know you? Why don’t you tell me Bertolt?”

Death looked like he was about to cry. He reached out to Jean and touched his lips. He remembered these lips, their touch and passion. He gathered in closer to Jean to leave a soft kiss on the lips of the person he missed so much. The kiss was cold and made Jean shiver, but then the cold kiss of Death changed into the fiery warmth of Bertolt’s kiss. Suddenly the memories flooded into Jean. Tears started to roll down his cheeks. How could he forget?

“I had to make you forget,” Bertolt said.

“But why?” Jean asked.

“Because Death can’t let his past bleed into his duty. I couldn’t have you follow me. I disappeared from everyone’s memories, and I replaced them with different memories. You were happy enough that I thought you would be fine without me. I just didn’t expect Marco to die, and I didn’t think it would happen to you when it did. I wanted to keep you safe from me and what I had become.”

“But it didn’t do you any good because I came to you anyway.”

This time Jean kissed Bertolt. He kissed Bertolt so many times to make up for every memory that was changed back. One for that time when they argued at the café only to find out that they were in love with each other. Another for the time they went to the beach and held hands as they watched the sunset. One last one for that previous life, the one where they said they loved each other too late to change fate. He needed to make up for all of this.

“Jean, do you remember this bedroom?” Bertolt asked.

“I want to say how could I forget, but you know,” Jean said.

Bertolt smiled and reached out for Jean’s shoulder. He pressed his thumb against Jean’s collarbone like he used to do years before.

“I remember taking you here for the first time. You were you- just trying hard to impress me by how cool you were,” Bertolt said.

“Don’t remind me about how lame I was,” Jean said.

“You didn’t need to try. I thought you were amazing the first time I met you. You were everything I wasn’t. And to think you were in love with me of all people, I felt like I didn’t deserve it, but you showed me in here that I did. I loved this room, and I still love this room and everything it means to us. Being here with you, I’m glad you took us here.”

Jean moved on top of Bertolt. He brushed Bertolt’s hair with his fingers and then cupped his cheek. He slid his fingers down Bertolt’s face, then neck and chest. He stopped when he saw black feathers nestled beneath Bertolt’s body. He picked up one of the downy feathers and held it up to Bertolt. Bertolt sat up and let his black wings spread out.

“When did you grow these?” Jean asked while reaching out to touch them.

“When I became Death,” Bertolt said.

“How come I didn’t see these before?”

“I usually hide my wings. It’s just that times like these… I mean. Anything intense for me, they speak up for me.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I couldn’t bear to be without you.”

Immediately, Jean kissed Bertolt, just the way Bertolt remembered their first kiss. He felt that mix of excitement and doubt all the way to his core. Jean could coax Bertolt out of his loneliness into a world of love. There in that bed, they discovered each other again. They were falling in love once more.

Jean opened his eyes. Surprising to him, he was still in bed with Bertolt in the apartment Bertolt lived in long ago. He heard the birds chirping outside the window and noticed that lithe Russian blue cat Bertolt owned perched on the sill. He didn’t know if they were in the past, but he didn’t seem to care what time he was in since he found Bertolt. He rubbed his chest, thinking about the ache that was no longer there. Bertolt woke up and kissed Jean gently on the shoulder. Time, while stopped for the time being, was running out for Jean. He would need to make a decision, and Bertolt would soon again be alone until Jean would cycle back into his life. This would happen again and again, and Jean would have to learn each time. The impending heartache hung over Bertolt.

“I don’t want this to end,” Jean said.

“Same,” Bertolt said.

“But… I have to make this choice. Right?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I ask you what Marco chose?”

Bertolt nodded. “He chose to be cycled. Right now his soul waits until the very moment it is ripe enough to be born again. Then Marco will be once again.”

“Is that what will happen to me? Will I see you and Marco again?”

“Not like it used to be, but yes. It’s different each time. The next time, you two will probably live longer because I didn’t tamper with your lives. I inadvertently did that… I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to be alone.“

Jean turned to Bertolt and rested his head on Bertolt’s shoulder. He closed his eyes for what seemed to be the last time. When he opened them, he faced Bertolt in a new, unfamiliar place. He looked around at the endless sky and infinite stars. Bertolt frowned. He stood in front of Jean in his shrouds with his wings unfurled.

“So you made your decision,” Bertolt said.

“Yeah… I guess I have,” Jean said.

“You’ll forget all of this- until we meet again, that is.”

“Who said I was going to forget this?”

“Everyone who chooses the cycle forgets everything.”

“I never said I was going to choose the cycle. I know what I’ve chosen, and that’s you.”

Jean immediately reached forward and grabbed Bertolt’s wrists. White wings sprung from Jean’s back. Jean hugged Bertolt tightly and cried into his shoulder. In that moment, he felt a void created in the hearts of all of his loved ones as their memories of him were erased. There was no turning back for Jean, and all he had left was the man before him.

“Why?” Bertolt asked.

“I don’t need a thousand lives to know that I want to be here with you,” Jean said.

“But what about all the people you love?”

“You’re the one I love, and I don’t want you to be alone- not when we found each other again. I don’t want to wait another lifetime to regain old memories and have them leave me. I just want to be with you.”

Bertolt wiped the tears from his eyes and kissed Jean. He took Jean’s hand in his and looked forward. Jean beamed at him and said, “Let’s go home.”

Bertolt nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”


End file.
